REVIEW | MOBB DEEP RELEASE NEW ALBUM ‘INFINITE’

By Faizah Cyanide • On Reviews

When I heard Mobb Deep was releas­ing Infin­ite, I felt a rush of excite­ment and nos­tal­gia. For many of us, this isn’t just anoth­er album; it’s a moment. The last Mobb Deep pro­ject dropped in 2014, over a dec­ade ago. The title Infin­ite feels poet­ic; it embod­ies what the duo has always rep­res­en­ted: raw truth, time­less art, and a leg­acy that refuses to fade.

To me, they defined ’90s hip-hop. They set the blue­print for that gritty New York sound that shaped an entire era. Shook Ones is more than a song; it’s a rite of pas­sage. And now, in 2025, to hear some­thing new from them feels surreal.

You’ve got to give cred­it to Nas for help­ing make this pro­ject hap­pen under his label, Mass Appeal. It’s the per­fect col­lab­or­a­tion, Nas and Mobb Deep, both from Queens­bridge, both archi­tects of that golden era. Just see­ing the album come out through his label made me smile. It felt like a full-circle moment for hip-hop. There’s a sense of integ­rity that comes with it, too. You can tell Hav­oc was giv­en full cre­at­ive free­dom, that the pro­ject was done with love and respect for the leg­acy. It feels like hip-hop her­it­age, care­fully preserved.

When Prodigy tra­gic­ally passed away in 2017, it felt like the whole cul­ture took a hit. So, hear­ing new verses from him now… It’s emo­tion­al. I didn’t know what to expect, maybe a few old verses pieced togeth­er, but what we got was some­thing else entirely. It doesn’t even sound like a posthum­ous album.

It sounds alive. The chem­istry between P and Hav­oc is still there. You can feel it. It’s like P’s energy is in every beat, every bar, watch­ing over the whole thing.

I’m not going to lie, I got emo­tion­al listen­ing to this album. The 90’s golden era of hip-hop had this feel­ing, this energy you could nev­er rep­lic­ate. And some­how, Infin­ite brought that back without sound­ing out­dated. The beats are mod­ern, clean, but they still carry that rugged essence. That’s not easy to do — to make some­thing feel nos­tal­gic and fresh at the same time.

And Hav­oc didn’t hold back. Fif­teen tracks, fifty-two minutes. Hav­oc pro­duced elev­en of them, Alchem­ist pro­duced four, and it’s the per­fect bal­ance. Hav­oc is also rap­ping at such a high level, it’s wild that people still don’t give him enough cred­it as both a pro­du­cer and lyr­i­cist and this album proves why he deserves his flowers.

The open­ing track Against the World set the tone beau­ti­fully. It’s soul­ful and power­ful, with Prodigy com­ing in first like he nev­er left. “Mobb Deep against the world”, that line hit deep because that’s exactly what it feels like being a Mobb fan. We’re like a glob­al fam­ily. I can travel any­where and meet someone who loves Mobb Deep, and there’s this unspoken bond. The track reminds you of your own power, too. It’s one of those songs you play on a bad day to feel lif­ted again. Hav­oc drops wis­dom like, no mat­ter what you’re going through, make some­thing of yourself.

Then Gun­fire hits. It’s dark, moody, and con­fid­ent. The type of track that makes you screw your face up in appre­ci­ation. P was always so sure of him­self, that quiet con­fid­ence, and you hear it here loud and clear. It’s embed­ded in his DNA.

Easy Bruh is that car tune — bass heavy, smooth chem­istry between P and Hav. It’s gritty, but it bangs. Then Look at Me with Clipse comes in, and it’s got this spir­itu­al under­tone, like a con­ver­sa­tion with your high­er self. Hav on the hook flows effort­lessly, and the lyr­ics just roll nat­ur­ally over the beat.

When The M the O the B the B comes on, it feels like an anthem. I could pic­ture a whole room chant­ing it. Big Noyd’s intro is a nice touch; he had to be on this album. The hook goes hard, and those lines about cops “killing people over their com­plex­ion”,  that’s clas­sic Mobb Deep, truth-telling and fearless.

One of my favour­ites is Down for You fea­tur­ing Jorja Smith and Nas. Jorja’s vocals bring a smooth, soul­ful touch, and it’s beau­ti­ful hear­ing her along­side Hav and Nas. Hav­oc opens up emo­tion­ally here; you can feel the matur­ity, the reflec­tion. And Nas, of course, does what Nas does best, drops wis­dom but also fun ref­er­ences, like flip­ping his “Halle Berry blew a kiss at the Bar­bra Streis­and con­cert” line from It’s Mine. That moment felt nos­tal­gic and play­ful at the same time. There are actu­ally two ver­sions of this track with slightly dif­fer­ent lyr­ics, and both work beautifully.

When I first heard Taj Mahal, I hon­estly thought it was an old Mobb Deep track I’d some­how missed. That’s how authen­t­ic it sounds. The way they integ­rated Prodigy’s verses is seam­less, the energy matches per­fectly. Then Mr. Magik pulls you into that dark, clas­sic Mobb world again. They play with meta­phors about magic and illu­sions, mak­ing people dis­ap­pear like a hat trick it’s gritty but clever.

Score Points hit me because Hav­oc reflects on resi­li­ence, all the times he could’ve fol­ded but didn’t. The mes­sage is simple: keep show­ing up for your­self. It’s motiv­a­tion­al without even try­ing to be.

My Era feels like a time cap­sule. A trib­ute to the golden age, name-check­ing legends like Big Pun, Wu-Tang, Nas, Jay‑Z, Big­gie, and Pac. When Prodigy says, “Big Pun, you still here,” it hits hard because he’s not. It’s haunt­ing, emo­tion­al, and beau­ti­ful all at once, like he’s speak­ing from anoth­er realm.

Then there’s Pour the Henny, hands down my favour­ite track on the album. Havoc’s verse is power­ful; he’s hold­ing it down against all odds. The pro­duc­tion is tran­quil yet hard, per­fectly bal­anced. Prodigy’s verse is spir­itu­al, he talks about his life, his leg­acy, how if he dies, don’t cry for him because he lived a full life. He even lists the legends he’s worked with Mary J. Blige, Mari­ah Carey, and reminds us how far he came. Nas comes in with that line, “It’s hell out here, so keep God close,” and it ties it all togeth­er. It’s a beau­ti­ful trib­ute, faith, loss, leg­acy, and strength all in one track.

Clear Black Nights is anoth­er standout. When P says, “Look­ing for me? Look up on a clear black night,” chills. And with Ghost­face and Raek­won on it? That’s hip-hop per­fec­tion, Wu-Tang and Mobb Deep togeth­er again, the alchemy of legends.

By the time you get to Dis­con­tin­ued, you feel that state­ment deep: “They don’t make ’em like us no more.” It’s true. Artists like Mobb Deep are rare now, authen­t­ic, ori­gin­al, fear­less. That line speaks for the whole album.

The clos­ing track We the Real Thing wraps it all up per­fectly. It feels like a state­ment of truth, everything they ever preached was real. You hear echoes of Queens­bridge, leg­acy, sur­viv­al, and some­thing spir­itu­al too, what’s next bey­ond the physical.

The whole album feels like Prodigy’s spir­it is guid­ing it. It’s not about mourn­ing; it’s about con­tinu­ing. Hav­oc didn’t just make an album,  he made an offer­ing. You can feel the loy­alty, the love, the patience. It’s reflect­ive of time passing, growth, but also celebration.

Infin­ite isn’t just about memory — it’s about leg­acy. Mobb Deep are forever.

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Faizah Cyanide

Faizah works in clin­ic­al research by pro­fes­sion and has been an avid Hip Hop lov­er since the early 90’s, hav­ing cre­ated her own Hip Hop event, ‘Breakin’ Bound­ar­ies’ in the early 2000’s which was pre­dom­in­antly based around the concept of bboy battles, she has worked with sev­er­al inter­na­tion­al events pro­moters and dan­cers to inspire oth­ers through this artform.

About Faizah Cyanide

Faizah works in clinical research by profession and has been an avid Hip Hop lover since the early 90's, having created her own Hip Hop event, 'Breakin' Boundaries' in the early 2000's which was predominantly based around the concept of bboy battles, she has worked with several international events promoters and dancers to inspire others through this artform.